


I Gotta Have You

by sir_kingsley



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Bossy Bottom Castiel, Bottom Castiel, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, M/M, Sex Toys, Sexual Content, Top Dean, Toys, happy birthday dean winchester, lots of taylor swift puns im sorry, puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 20:10:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9458648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sir_kingsley/pseuds/sir_kingsley
Summary: Cas plans a day of surprises for his boyfriend's birthday.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based loosely on what happened to me on my 22nd birthday. But like only the beginning lol. Also, this is my first time writing more explicit smut, so please be merciful in your critiques. And I didn't do a thorough edit so if you see any mistakes, feel free to point them out. Hope you enjoy!

_It feels like a perfect night to dress up like hipsters  
And make fun of our exes, uh uh, uh uh_

Dean lurches from his bed, drool making the separation between his face and pillow a little stubborn, and looks around his room on high alert.

_It feels like a perfect night for breakfast at midnight_  
To fall in love with strangers, uh uh, uh uh  
Yeahhhhhhhh 

“Cas!” Dean bellows over the music as the lyrics finally start to process in his sleep-addled brain. 

But there’s no response and no sign of the man, just this obnoxious song blasting apparently right out side his door given the way it’s practically vibrating out of its hinges as the bass picks up.

_We’re happy, free, confused, and lonely at the same time  
It’s miserable and magical, oh yeahhhhh_

“No, no, no, no,” Dean grumbles as he crawls out of the bed, making a sloppy and mad dash for the door.

_Tonight’s the night when we forget about the deadlines  
It’s time, uh uh_

Dean pulls at the door and is nearly brought to his knees by the volume, but he keeps surging toward the source of this aural assault.

_I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling twen-_

The music stops abruptly and Dean drops the iPod on the floor, releasing a harsh breath into the finally silent apartment.

The steps back to the bedroom are heavy and determined. He spends about twenty seconds wildly tossing blankets and pillows around until he finds his phone and shoots off a simple text.

**Dean:** I hate you

He’s thinking about taking a nose dive back into the mattress when his phone vibrates.

**From Cas:** Obviously you didn’t check the kitchen counter.

Curiosity and exhaustion wage a short battle before Dean is sighing and shuffling back toward the kitchen.

There’s a box sitting near the coffeepot. It’s a decent size and as Dean moves closer he can make out the shape of a familiar label. 

“No way,” he breathes, taking his next steps quickly and-

Yep. 

Benny’s Bakehouse.

He’s not the least bit careful lifting the lid to reveal a perfectly baked, gold-crusted apple pie, nor is he anything close to elegant as he hurriedly pulls a fork from the silverware drawer and digs it right into the center.

He’s moaning around blasts of cinnamon and tart apple when something occurs to him.

**Dean:** I love you

**From Cas:** That’s what I thought.

**From Cas:** Happy birthday :)

More texts and social media notifications roll in throughout the morning, along with phone calls from his family that he has to cut short when it gets close to time for his first lecture.

He puts a little more effort than normal into getting ready for class because god knows what else Cas has planned for the day. If there’s one person who perfectly embodies the phrase “doing the most” it’s Castiel Novak.

So Dean dresses in his snug black jeans and a denim shirt; casual enough for class or a bar, nice enough for a surprise dinner.

He’s having a pretty decent day, zoning out in his European film lecture when his phone buzzes and a photo of Taylor Swift in a — is she wearing a fucking _fedora?_ — hat with probably a hundred tiny 22s floating around her head lights up his screen.

**From Charlie:** HAPPY BIRTHDAY BITCH

**From Charlie:** WHATS THE PLAN 2NITE

**From Charlie:** actually I take back the bitch. taylor would not be proud of me for that.

Dean rolls his eyes and tries to discreetly maneuver his phone to a position where he can text. 

**Dean:** If I get one more taylor swift meme today im never going to see 23

**From Charlie:** would u say ur being Haunted by taylor memes???

**Dean:** No...

**Dean:** Its just getting annoying

**From Charlie:** just Breathe and Tell Me Why

Dean squints.

**Dean:** Why its annoying?? because i don’t even like taylor swift shes the worst

**From Charlie:** hey now why u gotta be so Mean

**Dean:** oh my god are you turning her songs into puns??

**From Charlie:** u caught me Red handed

**Dean:** Im not talking to you anymore

**From Charlie:** STAY STAY STAY

**From Charlie:** I CAN CHANGE 

**Dean:** I hate you

**From Charlie:** im done im done i promise

**From Charlie:** but 4 real whats the plan 2nite

Dean gives it a few seconds, expecting a follow-up joke but nothing comes.

**Dean:** Idk. It’s whatever cas wants to do

**From Charlie:** awww

**From Charlie:** u guys r such a cute Love Story

**Dean:** fuck off

**From Charlie:** im sorry i just had to for The Last Time

**Dean:** youre not sorry

**From Charlie:** DID U JUST

Dean grins and tosses his phone into his backpack. He’ll probably regret that later.

He spends the rest of the lecture taking notes, ignoring the buzzing of his phone until the professor finally dismisses them.

Thirteen unread texts. Eight are from Charlie. Yeah, that sounds about right.

_I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling twenty-two  
Everything will be all right if-_

Dean’s head whips up as the music starts out of nowhere. The other students in the corridor look just as confused as him until he spots a guy with a shit-eating grin leaning against the opposite wall. Their eyes meet and that smile grows wider as he gives his phone a teasing shake.

_You don’t know about me, but I bet you wanted to_  
Everything will be all right if we just keep dancing like we’re twenty-two  
Twenty-two 

Dean rolls his eyes but he can’t fight the smile pulling at his lips as he crosses the corridor and presses the little heathen into the wall for a deep kiss. It’s a bit uncoordinated with all the smiling and puffs of laughter but there’s an undeniable bite of heat in the way the man’s hips arch out to brush against Dean’s front and Dean’s hands are everywhere on the other man at once, his shoulder, his hair, his ass, his wrist-

“Ah ah ah,” Cas admonishes and tucks his phone safely behind his back as the song continues. “You’re not that sneaky.”

Dean grunts with laughter and lets his head drop to Cas’s shoulder, admitting defeat. “Can’t blame a man for trying.”

“Yeahhhhhh. We’re happy, free, confused, and lonely in the best way,” Cas sings quietly, his gravely voice making it more of a growl. “It’s miserable and magical, oh yeahhhhhh.”

“Cas, please,” Dean begs.

Cas laughs and pulls his phone out. With the tap of a finger the music is gone. “Fine, since you asked so nicely.” Cas’s tone is teasing but the moment swiftly sobers as Cas’s arms lock around Dean’s waist and he feels a kiss get lost in his hair. “Happy birthday, Dean.”

Dean hums and inches his head up to press a kiss to Cas’s throat. “Thanks, babe.”

“I feel like I should let you know that you will definitely hear that song a dozen more times today.”

Dean sighs and lifts his head. “Yeah, I figured. Come on.” He takes Cas’s hand and starts pulling him down the hall. “What’s the plan for today?”

Cas’s fingers tighten around his and it makes Dean feel warm. “Well, I figured we’d get lunch if you’re still hungry after eating all that pie.” Cas shoots him a knowing look and Dean bites down the argument on the tip of his tongue, because yeah, that pie is gone. “Then I work till eight. But I thought we could grab dinner downtown and meet some friends at the Roadhouse for drinks.”

Dean squints. “And that’s all?”

Cas nods easily. “Yep. That’s all.”

“No spontaneous road trips to a remote location that you’ve already decorated for a romantic night together?”

“No.”

“No giant surprise party you’re planning in our apartment behind my back?”

“Nope.”

“I’m not going to arrive at the bar and find out my parents or Sam flew in?”

Cas is laughing now. “No. Sam has an exam tomorrow.”

“Cas...”

“I’m only kidding,” Cas says as the finally make their way outside the building and their breaths instantly turn white in the cold. “Nothing big this time. Just like I promised.”

Dean keeps his eyes narrowed. “I don’t fully believe you.”

Cas’s only response is to press himself to Dean’s front. He fiddles with the collar of Dean’s leather jacket, pulling it in tighter around his neck. “It’s a good thing you’re a winter baby. If you’d been born during a season with humane weather, I’d drive you insane with all my ideas.”

Dean smirks. “You still drive me crazy with your ideas. You made me celebrate Canada Day so you could take me on a sex-nic at the lake.”

“So?”

_“Neither of us are Canadian.”_

Blue eyes take a wide lap. “You loved it.”

“I got sunburnt.”

“You also had three orgasms.”

And, well, Dean can’t even try to pretend that hadn’t made it all worth it. “Touché...”

Cas’s smile is smug as he kisses the corner of Dean’s mouth before leaning away. “So. Where to for lunch?”   
__________________________________________  
Cas is true to his word for the rest of the day.

They have lunch at one of the student bars just off campus because, hello, Two-Dollar Tuesday. Cas puts a dollar in the jukebox and makes Dean listen to “22″ yet again but once Dean’s nachos arrive all is forgiven.

They part ways so Dean can attend his next class and Cas has to sprint to the library for his shift. 

The hours are littered with more texts and Facebook alerts, a few stray phone calls, and a three-hour nap. 

Come 8:00, Dean is picking Cas up in the Impala and they have dinner at one of the nicer joints on the square and Dean... feels happy. 

He’s had a lot of great birthdays over the years, but this one — with all the small gestures tailored just for Dean’s tastes, the simple privilege of spending time with Cas and looking at him over the glow of the candlelit table and thinking of how he could never tire of it — just might be his favorite.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Cas wonders with suspicious eyes. 

Dean’s brows pinch. “Like what?”

“Like Han Solo just gave you the keys to the Millennium Falcon.”

He tries to laugh it off but Cas only tilts his head, waiting for an answer. “I-I just... I’m happy,” he manages, ducking his head into the lowlight. “I like being with you like this.”

He’s caught off guard when warm fingers slide over his hand, drawing his eyes. Cas’s smile is a whisper but it speaks volumes. “Me too.”

They wrap up dinner around 10:00 and head to the Roadhouse. Dean is glad to see the parking lot isn’t too full. He’s got one hand on the wheel and the other holding Cas’s and with each passing minute he just wants to drive home and have this man all to himself.

But they have people coming to meet them. So he parks and works up a smile as they climb out of the car and head to the front door. 

The music is surprisingly loud as they get closer. Two-Dollar Tuesday or not, not many students are going to be out raging on a school night and Ellen’s Roadhouse isn’t really that kind of bar anyway.

“Did Ellen leave Jo and Ash in charge again?” he has to yell.

Cas smiles. “I’m not sure!”

The song gets louder and louder and there’s something familiar about the beat, like it’s been following Dean all day-

“Wait, Cas-”

Cas yanks the door open and hurls Dean inside.

_**YOU DON’T KNOW ABOUT ME BUT I BET YOU WANTED TO  
EVERYTHING WILL BE ALL RIGHT IF WE JUST KEEP DANCING LIKE WE’RE TWENTY-TWO** _

Dean balks as an entire room of people shout the chorus of the song in his face. He instinctively tries to leave but Cas is right behind him, keeping him still as his closest friends practically scream at him and... well, like Taylor says, it’s miserable and magical.

Cas notices when his tension eases because he’s then taking Dean’s hands and pulling him further into the room and all Dean can do is roll his eyes and follow until he’s in the center of the dance floor and people start jumping as the chorus picks up again. 

_**I DON’T KNOW ABOUT YOU BUT I’M FEELING TWENTY-TWO** _

It’s hot because he and Cas still have their coats on and they’re being swarmed by — god, there must be at least a hundred people in here. But Cas is smiling like a fool as he lifts their joined hands to make Dean twirl and then they’re swaying together and, dammit, Dean starts to sing.

_**EVERYTHING WILL BE ALL RIGHT IF YOU KEEP ME NEXT TO YOU** _

Cas looks like he’s glowing as they belt the song out to one another, dancing like absolute idiots with plenty of dips and shimmies and enough twirls to make Dean see two of everything.

__**IT FEELS LIKE ONE OF THOSE NIGHTS  
WE DITCH THE WHOLE SCENE  
IT FEELS LIKE ONE OF THOSE NIGHTS  
WE WON’T BE SLEEPING  
IT FEELS LIKE ONE OF THOSE NIGHTS**

The breath is stolen from Dean’s lungs as Cas suddenly yanks him close.

_**YOU LOOK LIKE BAD NEWS, I GOTTA HAVE YOU** _

Dean smiles into Cas’s neck as his boyfriend’s voice barely registers over the music.

“I gotta have you.”

The screams that follow are jarring and Cas simply throws him a wink before Dean is being torn in all different directions for “happy birthday” hugs and kisses and shots. 

Oh god, so many shots.

More than half of them end up discreetly dumped on the floor because as much as Dean would love to celebrate by getting shit-faced, he’s got plans for a certain blue-eyed man that require some level of sobriety. 

Charlie almost breaks his resolve with the promise of some top shelf tequila.

“Come on, dude, it’s your birthday!” she urges.

“I know, and I’m trying to make sure I’m sober enough to open every present that’s _presented_ to me.” Dean smiles at himself.

Charlie’s nose screws up. “Bro. Tmi. But fine.” She takes one shot, rushing to suck on a slice of lime before downing the other. “More for me,” she slurs with a slight wobble.

“You’re a mess,” Dean accuses.

_“I’m only me when I’m with you,”_ Charlie says with a dramatic wiggle of her eyebrows.

Dean pulls a bitchface worthy of the hall of fame. “Oh my god. Get away from me!”

Charlie clutches to his arm before Dean can move away. “Don’t think I’ll forget what you texted me earlier.”

“Keep taking shots and we’ll see.”

“Everything okay here?”

Dean and Charlie release one another as Cas sidles up next to Dean, an arm circling his waist.

“Yeah, babe. But we might have to tell Jo to cut Charlie off.”

Charlie’s jaw drops. “How dare you try to take away my booze, Winchester. _I knew you were trouble when you walked in.”_

Dean’s grin vanishes. “We’re officially no longer friends. Babe, let’s go.”

Charlie’s laughter follows them as Dean eases Cas further down the bar to a couple of deserted stools. Dean flags Jo down for a couple of waters before turning a smile on Cas who is watching him carefully.

“What?”

“You’re not nearly as drunk as I expected.”

“There are a shit ton more people here than I expected,” Dean shoots back.

Cas doesn’t look the least bit guilty. “I regret nothing.”

“Never should have trusted you,” Dean laughs.

“No, you really shouldn’t have.” Cas’s smile dims. “Are you upset?”

Dean places his hand on Cas’s knee, gives a comforting squeeze. “No. This was nice, Cas. Thank you. Thank you for always going above and beyond for me. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Cas slides off his stool to loop his arms around Dean’s head, creating a private space for the two of them. “I think the same thing every day.”

“Hey, hey, love birds, drink your water and go get a room,” Jo yells and the two break apart to accept their cups before she’s sauntering away.

“To be honest, I wanted to suggest the same thing before we walked in here,” Dean says, wriggling his brows and lifting the cup to his lips.

He catches the barest hint of a smile before Cas is suddenly turning, lowering himself into Dean’s lap. “The night’s not over yet,” he purrs and Dean swallows hard, dick perking to attention as Cas slides his ass along Dean’s thigh until he feels-

_Fuck._

“H-h-how-how-”

Cas takes the cup from Dean’s hand, setting in on the bar before sliding his hips up, head falling back on Dean’s shoulder to sear Dean with a smile that will haunt Dean’s fantasies for years. 

“H-how long have you been wearing that?” he finally manages to get out.

“Since I left this morning,” Cas says easily. 

“Oh god,” Dean breathes, head falling forward as his mind floods with memories of the day: Cas in the corridor after class, going to lunch together, dinner — Cas went to work like that! At the _library!_

“Oh god,” Dean says again because his brain simply can’t process any other words.

Cas’s smile is slipping from smug to absolutely delighted. “You ready to go home, birthday boy?”

All Dean can do is nod.

They keep the goodbyes short and sweet — well, mostly short because Dean can barely speak let alone actually be pleasant to the people who are just obstacles in his road to getting Cas home.

But soon they’re on their way, Cas driving because Dean would undoubtedly break a dozen traffic laws and neither could deal with being pulled over right now.

It takes exactly nineteen minutes to get home, another thirty-two seconds to run up the stairs, eleven to unlock and open the door.

And then times ceases to exist.

Cas barely gets the keys on the counter before he’s turning around and Dean is lifting him up, legs locking like a vise around Dean’s hips as their lips meet, heated and bruising.

The walk to the bedroom is difficult to say the least. Dean isn’t necessarily out of shape, but he’s not at his “best” and Cas is all muscle, like those thighs — _damn._

But Dean makes it, legs wobbling and muscles straining, he damn sure makes and they fall sloppily over the mattress, hands quick to grab at shirt hems and fight with zippers.

It’s a mad struggle, painful at times, but then they’re both gloriously naked and Dean has Cas laid out under him, warm and powerful, as they continue to kiss and grope.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Dean breathes against Cas’s throat.

Cas hums as his hands knead at Dean’s ass. “You ready for your last present?”  
“Fuck yes.”

Dean leans back and he doesn’t even try to hold back his moan as Cas flips onto his stomach and pulls his knees up, effectively presenting his ass and the beautiful green plug nestled between his cheeks to Dean.

_“Oh fuck.”_

“Like what you see, baby?” Cas purrs and gives a little ass shake for good measure.

“I always do,” Dean breathes, hands reaching out slowly to touch carefully, reverently. 

The pace is a stark difference from how they were going just a matter of heartbeats ago, but it happens a lot. Pent up sexual frustration driving them against each other, into walls, crashing through doors, tearing off clothes until they get here, to this moment where they can't help but slow down and look, treasure, memorize.

This is probably Dean’s favorite part to be honest, this space of time where he can study Cas’s body with unchecked lust and unbridled love before he finally allows himself to touch.

Then it starts to build again.

Dean presses on the plug gently, easing it just slightly further in Cas who preens like a cat. He lets up then presses again and again, stimulating Cas until his whimpers turn to growls.

“Dean,” Cas gasps, but there’s a demand in it, an urgency.

“Okay, babe. Okay.”

Dean slowly eases the plug out and he almost wishes they’d turned the lights on so he could see how red Cas’s hole surely is after an entire day with this toy inside him. God, it’s probably glistening from all the lube, wet and aching for-

“DEAN!” Cas growls.

He snaps back to attention, letting his hands slide down Cas’s thighs and back up to knead the hard flesh of his ass. “Sorry, babe,” he breathes. “I was just thinking about how beautiful you must look right _here.”_ As he says it he lets two fingers slip inside and Cas lurches forward almost violently. Dean takes his free arm and wraps it around Cas’s waist, keeping him in place tight against his chest as Cas continues to hiss and tremble with every stroke of his fingers.

“Dean, Dean, god, Dean, please!”

He can’t help but grin at Cas’s begging. “But I just started, babe. I’ve barely even touched you.” He let’s his hand on Cas’s stomach slip down to wrap around his cock and Cas hits the mattress immediately with a cry.

“I’ve been riding a plug for over ten hours, Dean,” Cas pants. “I don’t care when you started, _fuck me now!”_  
Dean just chuckles and gives Cas a few more strokes before pulling his fingers out. “Kind of scared to see how bossy you’ll be on your birthday,” he laments as he digs out the lube.

Cas huffs out an exhausted laugh. “You love it.”

“Mmm, yeah, I do.” Dean is quick to slick up his cock and then, without a word of warning, he’s flipping Cas onto his back.

Wide blue eyes shimmer in the glow of the streetlights wandering through their curtains and the shock melts away until Cas’s eyes are burning like blue fire, feral and uncontainable. 

“You wanna play rough?”

“You love it,” Dean mocks.

Cas grins. “Yeah, I do.”

He lifts his hips without a word and Dean scoots closer until he’s pressing the head of his cock to Cas’s hole. Cas’s moan is pure relief when Dean starts to push in and it makes Dean’s blood surge like there’s lightning in his veins.

Cas doesn’t allow a moment of adjustment; the second Dean bottoms out he’s growling, “Move, Dean, fucking _move!”_

The thrusts start slow and easy but quickly pick up the pace, snapping harder then faster until they’re rocking together hard enough to move the bed. 

Cas keeps his eyes on Dean as he keeps encouraging more, “harder, faster, faster, Dean — oh god — _faster!”_ and Dean keeps moving, trying for more on every thrust to meet Cas’s needs until Cas’s head snaps back against the mattress and he knows he’s there.

“That good baby?” he pants through his movements. “This what you needed?”

Cas’s breaths are coming out in short, pleasured moans. “Oh-oh-oh go-od ye-es...”

“Touch yourself for me, baby. Come on, wanna see you stroke that beautiful cock.” It’s difficult to form words but he really wants to see it.

It takes Cas a minute to listen, but his hand eventually starts to move, straying down his body and he arches off the bed the second he takes his cock in hand.

“Oh, Dean, Dean, gonna come, I’m gonna come, right there, oh please, right there!”

Dean holds the angle, snapping his hips forward, eyes drifting from Cas’s shadowed face to where his hand is flying wildly over his cock and then back to his face and Cas is whipping his head back and forth, mouth opening on a soundless scream.

“Yes, Cas, just like that,” he urges. “Come for me, Cas. Cas, Cas, Cas.”

“Dean!”

Cas goes rigid for a hot second, body convulsing with powerful quakes as he comes. His ass tightens around Dean who keeps driving forward until the coil of heat simmering in his lower stomach bursts through his body like a mad fever. 

He just barely manages to catch himself from crushing Cas as he falls forward, bracing his weight on his elbows as his orgasm continues to wreak havoc throughout his body.

Cas is coming down, body still trembling and he reaches up to pull Dean down over him. Dean breathes into the sweat-damp skin of his neck, both of their chests rising and falling heavily.

It’s a long while before either of them talks, waiting until their breathing evens out and the sweat starts to cool. Dean moves to drag the blanket up off the floor and efficiently wraps the two of them in a cozy cocoon.

Cas moves closer, his nose pressing into Dean’s shoulder and Dean can feel his smile as he wraps one arm around Cas’s waist, the other reaching up to run fingers through his hair.

“That was amazing,” Cas breathes.

Dean laughs. “It sure was something.”

The smile turns into a kiss. “You had a good birthday?”

Dean ducks his head, maneuvering himself until he could search out Cas’s lips with his own. “It was the best.”

Cas kisses back. “Would you say it was... _the best day?”_

Dean leans back. “Was that a Taylor Swift song?”

“Nope.”

“It totally was, wasn’t it?”

Cas turns over. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m completely _innocent."_  
“Oh my god, you did it again! Look there’s only enough room for one shitty pun master in this relationship and we both agreed that would be me.”

The bed is trembling with Cas’s laughter as he flips back over and wraps Dean in his arms, effectively ending the argument. “Happy birthday, Dean,” Cas says into his shoulder. “I love you.”

Dean hides a kiss in Cas’s hairline. “I love you too.”


End file.
